


Familiar Strangers

by silbee



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silbee/pseuds/silbee
Summary: The prince of Almyra makes his way back to work out some diplomatic issues with the new King of Faerghus. Excited by the memories of his previous visits, a morose arrival is the last thing on his mind.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Familiar Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> We're assuming that the Alliance is still a part of the Kingdom at this point and switching up some events. Also! Claude is referred to by his real name, so spoilers if you aren't familiar with it!

Khalid struggled to keep his eyes open as he started out of the frosted carriage window. Were it not for the cold temperature, he would have leaned against said window and drifted off to sleep. His eyes focused on his parents, who were using each other as pillows. 

That must be nice.

They uncomfortably contorted themselves to fall asleep sitting upright in the cramped quarters. Returning his gaze to the outdoors, he puffed out a sigh. The snow was exciting for the first day or two of their journey, but it quickly grew old. Everything looked the same. It’s just white. Biting, bland, never ending white.

I wanna go back home. Why did we have come in the winter? 

Oh, how he wished he was soaring through the blue sky on Shuk’s back. Unfortunately for him, the wyvern troop they originally traveled to the border with was exchanged for this box on wheels. That was about two and half weeks ago. Khalid hit his head on the back of his seat, staring at the equally boring ceiling. 

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You’ll get to see Dimitri again, afterall.

***

One long and painfully dull week later, Khalid is gently shaken awake by his mother. He almost swatted her arm away, groggily peeling his eyes open. It seems that they’ve passed through the gates of Fhirdiad. As unpleasant as the weather had been throughout his journey, Khalid found himself appreciating how the snowfall gently hugged pointed rooftops and contrasted with the dark cobble stone below. People were bustling about the streets, wrapped in furs and heavy clothing of assorted shades of brown and green. Although Khalid couldn’t imagine being outside in these conditions, he supposed these people didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. The carriage continued through the city, seeking out the capital’s heart. This gave Khalid the opportunity to peer into many different buildings. They passed by an inn, from which a warm glow radiated through its windows. The people within appeared to be enjoying their time, sitting around a large table while laughing and drinking from steaming cups. Khalid had noticed the inn’s exterior showcased green décor; he thinks they’re composed of some sort of pine. Wreaths and garlands hung around, above, and on doors, walls and windows alike. Some of them included vibrant red berries or meticulously placed arrangements of sticks, leaves, and flowers. 

Those are kind of pretty, I guess. Whatever they’re drinking probably tastes good, too.

***

Khalid followed behind his parents, trying his best to mask his drowsiness after the arduous trip. Forcing his back straight and his chin up, they continued after their escorts into the throne room. The castle has changed little since their last visit several years ago, the same cerulean tapestries and silver decorations still accented the dark stone walls. Minimal furniture graced the carpeted halls, such as small side tables or the occasional decorative statue.

Having been so focused on remaining upright, Khalid nearly walked straight into his father. Luckily, he caught himself just in time, now realizing that they stood at the foot of the throne room’s looming doors. The two towering doors met in the middle, sporting intricate designs crafted from silver along the expanse of umber wood. Two of the men escorting his family stepped forward and grasped onto the door handles, also made of silver, yet shaped like the heads of lions. Their fangs bared and clutched around thick silver rings used to announce their presence. As the door creaked open, another familiar sight greeted Khalid’s curious and tired eyes. King Lambert stood in front of his throne, his face adorned with warm eyes and a wide smile. To his right, Queen Ivanna shared a similar, slightly more reserved expression. And to his left was Prince Dimitri. Were it not for his place beside the king, Khalid struggled to think if he would have recognized his old friend. Dimitri’s hair was no longer grazing his shoulders and his face had become sharper; Khalid suspected he could no longer tease Dimitri about his height, either. Even though Dimitri’s physique changed considerably, he still had the same welcoming smile, which grew slightly when the two made eye contact. Khalid threw his eyebrows up, complimented with a sly grin as a greeting. He shouldn’t forget that he’s also changed throughout the years. 

While following an escort through the castle’s carpeted halls, Khalid preoccupied himself with his thoughts. 

I wonder if he’s still as shy as he used to be.

He pondered about what Dimitri may have noticed about him, too. 

Now that Khalid was older, he was given his own guest chamber, not too far from the one he used to stay in with his parents. He was in the middle of wriggling into his attire in the company of a full-length mirror and a small lantern. Although Khalid had no qualms with the clothing worn in The Kingdom, he wasn’t so sure it belonged on his person. It felt constricting and stiff; which makes sense, since his outfit had been brand new and custom made over the course of the past few days. He patted down his black trousers and stared at himself in the mirror, fingers fidgeting over the buttons holding his tight jacket together. Although his tailor had done some gold embroidery in an attempt to add an Almyran flare to his dark attire, Khalid still felt out of place. After fiddling with the vibrant yellow half cape, also embroidered with Almyran flora, draped over his left shoulder, he grabbed the lantern and began to rummage through one of his bags. His hand finally found a small felt pouch, which he emptied promptly. Khalid hurried back to the mirror, eyeing himself as he slipped the mismatched pair of earrings. On his left was a small lively blue gemstone, encased in gold. On his right was a longer piece, simple yet detailed gold with tiny blue studs climbing the metal’s base. Double checking his braid and running his hand through his short, coarse hair, Khalid let out a breath. 

This isn’t anything I can’t handle.

Khalid didn’t really know what he expected when he entered the ball room. It was crowded and bustling by the time he showed up. He found his parents chatting with a group of nobility he didn’t recognize and decided to keep to himself. Most of the men there were dressed in similar garb as he, however, they each appeared to have their own distinguishing features. Some men wore flowers on their chests, others had accessories that seemed to come in an assortment of colors, and some simply wore clothing with its own distinct style. Many of the women, he noticed, were in wide dresses. He thought they looked a bit like the jellyfish he’d seen back home. Contrary to the men, each woman he saw had her own unique look; whether that was due to the ribbons on her dress, the color she wore, the way her hair was styled, or even the type of scent she lathered on. 

Khalid knew that he should have been socializing, but he felt his parents were probably doing a good enough job without him. So, he gathered a couple of pastries from a wall side table adorned with foods and found himself a secluded area towards the back of the room. While gracefully plopping one of the sweet treats into his mouth, Khalid observed the crowd break into pairs as a new song began to play. Some people retreated to the sides of the room, but most of them began to step and twirl to the smooth music. Similarly to the clothing he wore, Khalid thought about how different the dancing here was compared to Almyra. The movements he observed appeared to be more concerned with following a stringent set of steps and performing before your partner. While back in Almyra, dancing acted as an outlet to lose oneself in the expression of movement. 

How boring. 

But Khalid couldn’t help but wonder what it must feel like to participate. He could have easily charmed some random noblewoman into dancing with him, using his youth and “naivety” to his advantage; but he decided against it. 

“Khalid, it’s good to finally have the opportunity to speak with you!”

He jumped at the unfamiliar and deep voice, whipping around to be greeted by Dimitri. The two hadn’t seen each other since Khalid’s arrival. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Dimitri stepped back slightly.

Khalid laughed, “Please, it’ll take more than that to scare me. I just wasn’t expecting the crown prince to spare a moment for little ole’ Khalid. It’s good to see you, by the way. You’ve grown.” 

And become a baritone, apparently.

“Well, as have you,” Dimitri quipped back, “And please don’t say such things. Regardless of who you are, I spend my time with whom I choose.” He looked out towards the expanse of the room, “Have you been enjoying yourself?”

“I guess so,” he shrugged, “This is all pretty new to me, if I’m being honest. And these clothes are pretty stuffy.” Khalid extended one of his arms, giving it an experimental stretch before crossing his arms. 

“I see. Apologizes that your attire isn’t comfortable, I’ll have to discuss the matter with our tailor when the time comes.” Dimitri’s furrowed brow relaxed as he took note of Khalid’s accessory, “Your earrings are quite beautiful though! I take it they’re Almyran?”

Khalid instinctively brought a hand to cover his right ear, “Ah- Yeah, a friend of mine from back home made this set for me. Thanks.”

The conversation having stalled lead the teens to silently gaze at the dancefloor, watching the king’s guests continue to twirl and frolic the night away. The music has since changed, but still seemed to be a waltz.

Khalid felt a smirk tugging at his lips while he watched, “You wanna dance?” He imagined that the prince would be too embarrassed to realistically consider the teasing offer. 

To his surprise, Dimitri responded with much more excitement than he had anticipated, “Do you really want to?” 

A playful mask kept his shock safely hidden, Khalid looked to see Dimitri looking just as eager and hopeful as he sounded. “Well, I asked, didn’t I?” He chuckled and gently grabbed the prince’s wrist, “But I’d prefer straying from all of these prying eyes.”

Dimitri looked confused, “Why would…”

Khalid, still holding Dimitri’s wrist, turned his head to the side and pursed his lips, “I don’t know how to dance. Well- I don’t know how to dance here. Whatever this is.” He used his free arm to motion towards the couples in the background.

“Is that so,” it was Dimitri’s turn to smirk in amusement, “Well, worry not, Khalid. I think I have a more private place in mind.” He freed his wrist from Khalid’s hand before grabbing it himself and leading the latter out of the ballroom. 

Dimitri strode ahead, navigating the wide castle halls with confidence. After making a series of turns, hopping up several flights of stairs, and making even more turns, they arrived at one of the many side rooms in the castle. Dimitri opened the door, allowing Khalid to enter first; he closed it behind him with a loud “click.” They appeared to be in a study, with a large desk at the head of the space. Bookshelves filled to the brim hide the walls and two plush sofas resided in the middle of the rectangular room. A large wreath, similar to those Khalid saw in the town, hung on the large window at the end of the room. Dimitri began to work on moving the seats, pushing them to the sides in order to create an open space. He turned to Khalid and offered his hand, bowing slightly, “Shall we?”

Khalid tentatively took Dimitri’s gloved hand, allowing the prince to guide him into place. Warmth began to grow around the areas he touched. Khalid was thankful his friend held him at his waist and hand, for he feared his heartbeat would betray his cool demeanor. Dimitri began to explain the basics steps involved in a waltz, leading the slow practice. Initially, Khalid found himself stumbling more than he would have liked and apologized when he’d accidentally trip over the prince’s feet. Initially, he had been distracted by the weight of Dimitri’s presence, which he decided to blame for his shaky start. Soon enough though, he began to connect his steps with more grace and confidence into the dips and turns Dimitri lead him in. 

“Looks like I’m starting to get the hang of it, yeah?” Khalid joked, looking up at his friend. 

Dimitri laughed, “I suppose you are. Do you think you’re ready to dance to a beat?”

I would sooner die than stumble over myself in that pompous and crowded room.

Still keeping himself in-step, Khalid rolled his eyes, “I don’t really know about that, Your Highness. I think I might still have stage fright. Besides,” he inched his face closer to Dimitri’s, “isn’t it more fun when it’s just the two of us?”

Dimitri stiffened and directed his chin up, “I think I have an idea then, to accommodate your ‘stage fright,’ Khalid.” He broke away from the embrace and eyed the other’s attire, “You have a coat, don’t you?”

Khalid hadn’t anticipated that he would be dancing with Faerghus’ future king on a balcony in the middle of a cold and snowy night, but here he was. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been out there, but it was long enough to bring on a chill and have snow accumulate on the both of their heads. Dimitri had gathered two coats from his chambers, as it was more convenient, apparently, and directed Khalid to another location in the castle. The balcony that they currently swayed upon was above and slightly to the left of the ball room, which had some of its windows left ajar. Music flowed out of the bustling room, reaching their ears even while sounding distant. 

“You know, Your Highness,” Khalid chittered, watching his wispy breath, “this isn’t exactly what I thought you had in mind. My poor hands are freezing!”

Khalid elicited yet another chuckled from the prince, “Well, it is still just the two of us and we can hear the music from below. Besides, I’m happy to be able to share this winter’s night with you. As for your hands,” Dimitri lead Khalid into a swift spin turn, “You’re free to bury them underneath my coat, if you would like. Or perhaps I could lend you my gloves.”

“I think your coat will suffice,” Khalid responded, his stinging hands found quick respite  
underneath the fur covering Dimitri’s shoulders. “And as fun as this is, I think I’m getting tired. Why don’t we continue to ‘share this winter’s night’ back in the ballroom? Or at least somewhere warmer.”

“I suppose we should head back inside,” Dimitri agreed with a sigh, stopping the waltz while still holding onto Khalid. “But won’t you stay out here with me a bit longer? I fear that after tonight my duties will preoccupy so much of my time that we won’t see much of each other for the rest of your stay.”

Khalid made the mistake of looking up, his breath hitched in his throat. Snow sprinkled around them and tiny flecks hung onto Dimitri’s blonde hair, falling forward with the downwards tilt of his head. He now noticed the white flakes that had been caught on his friend’s eyelashes, protecting his sincere eyes.

Never realized there were hints of brown in them before.

“If you insist, Your Highness,” a sense of levity flavored his words, “but only if you agree to share that coat of yours. I really can’t handle this weather, even with these furs.”

Another soft chuckle escaped Dimitri as he peered down, “I would be more than happy to oblige.”

***

A piercing screech echoed through the clouds, concealing carefree laughter. Wide white and red wings beat hard, propelling Shuk higher into the air. She arched in the sky before diving down. Khalid contained himself and regained Shuk’s composure from the saddle he was strapped into. He turned around to see the rest of his troop atop wyverns of their own, some of them imitating Shuk’s drops. There was only so much to do after flying across newly green the continent for a week. They’d been lucky to avoid run-ins with any of the bandit groups plaguing the border when they would set up camp. Fortunately for them, Fhirdiad was soon to be within sight and their long journey from Almyra would finally be met with peaceful rest. 

Khalid found the doors to the king’s chamber comforting, as he looked into the eyes of one of its silver lions. 

Been a while since I saw you, little guy. 

He hadn’t been escorted once he arrived, which felt odd. But Khalid recognized that things change, and it had been several years since his previous visit. He paused, reminiscing about the last time he interacted with Dimitri. His stomach fluttered at the thought of those kindly eyes and strong arms. Grasping onto the thick silver ring in the lion’s mouth, he slowly managed to pull one of the doors open. 

Side-stepping around the door, Khalid swept his arm into a fluid bow and projected his voice in a mocking tone, “Greetings, Your Majesty. It was incredibly gracious of you to house our stay; we’re grateful for the accommodations.” As he lifted his head he halted, unprepared for the sight before him; his stomach clenched.

Ragged and sullen, Dimitri slouched on his throne, dressed in complete obsidian body armor, with his hand hanging off the side. While his wrist was limp, his fingers clutched at his lance, Areadhbar. Most of his face was covered by his unkempt hair, but one of his piercing eyes remained exposed. Off to the right, an unfamiliar man observed Khalid with an unhostile, yet cautious gaze. He was the only other person in the room with them, arms behind his back and fully clad in armor that glinted as white as his hair. 

Oh gods.

Struggling to combat his now dry mouth, Khalid managed to maintain his composure. “Anyway, before we get into the details of our diplomatic issues, why don’t we catch up? It’s been so long since—"

“Silence.” Dimitri snapped and sneered, “Hurry up and spit out your purpose; lest I find myself believing you’re acting as a distraction, wasting my time, as my kingdom is being overthrown.” He narrowed his visible eye, “The letter announcing your arrival was much too vague for comfort.”

Khalid couldn’t hide his visible flinch at Dimitri’s sharp tongue. “Right, my apologizes, Your Majesty. I have been sent here to discuss matters pertaining to bandit activity at the Almyran border. These bandits are infiltrating our land from The Kingdom and we would like to put an end to this issue.” 

“Yes, those bandits…” Dimitri glared ahead and seemed to be speaking to himself more than Khalid, “Those rats have been rampaging through my land for about a year now, perhaps longer.” He returned his focus to the Almyran prince, “I had not realized they spread their plague to your borders.”

“It is most unfortunate, Your Majesty,” Khalid kept his eyes low, “But I have faith that we will be able to eliminate the problem. I have been given orders to remain in Faerghus until the border is deemed safe once again.”

Dimitri lifted his chin, “So the letter claimed. It would be in my best interest to comply, so I shall.” Some of his hair had shifted across his face, teasing an empty eye socket. “You’re dismissed. You will be escorted to your chambers and we shall discuss this further at a later date.”

He struggled to pacify his brewing anxiety, which was further catalyst by the brief glimpse he managed of the sickening scar tissue decorating the cavity where Dimitri’s other eye once resided. 

Is it—is it gone? It’s missing. What happened?! 

Before taking his leave, Khalid summoned the courage to look his old friend in his remaining eye, “And what of my men and our steeds? Where will they be staying?”

Dimitri didn’t move, allowing the tension to steep in the air. “Worry not, Khalid,” his sharp words sliced through the silence, “I have arranged rooms for their stay in the castle. As for your wyverns, they will be tended to at our stables.” He glared down, “Will that be sufficient?”

“More than enough. Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall see you when you are ready to discuss the matter at hand. Good day to you.” Khalid bowed and swiftly exited the chamber, the door still ajar. Before he managed to make much progress, he was greeted by another unfamiliar face.

A man with fiery red hair approached, “You must be Prince Khalid.” His tone sounded too casual considering the newly established circumstances and he nodded his head, “Well, I guess I’ll be showing you to your room. The name’s Sylvain. Sylvain Gautier.”

Once the duo put some distance between themselves and the throne room, Khalid looked up at one of the lanterns hanging precariously from the ceiling and questioned his new acquaintance. “So, Sylvain,” he drawled, beginning to take longer and slower steps, “I can’t say I noticed anything out of the ordinary when I entered Faerghus, save for some bandits while on the road.” Sylvain paid him a steady glance, continuing to walk down the hall. “I recognize that the former king and queen were taken from us, prematurely. But I didn’t think things were this bad. What happened? How the hell is the kingdom still standing?”

“Y’know, I find myself asking that question a lot more than I’d like to,” he shook his head in disappointment with a sad smile, “Things fell apart a couple of years ago, when the king and queen were— well, you know. Dimitri had been framed for their murder, as well as the murder of one of his knights at the time.” He harked a sudden left, “We managed to get him out of the hot water that was an execution. Buuuut, once Dimitri was freed and in power, a good handful of the nobles began hiring mercs to cause trouble throughout the kingdom. So nowadays, Dimitri is pretty much convinced anyone who isn’t him is probably attempting to dethrone him. Or, at least, that’s what I think.” 

Khalid remained silent, continuing after Sylvain through the castle. 

He was framed… He was framed for the murder of his parents. Why?

Soon they reached the door of the guest chamber he would be staying in. “So, uh,” Khalid wasn’t sure where to look, “How exactly the whole eye situation happen?” He motioned a circle around his right eye as he asked. 

Sylvain grimaced and twisted his face, “Yeah, I don’t actually know the details behind that. But he lost it not too long after he was imprisoned.” He closed his eyes and shivered before snapping back into the more cheerful and nonchalant attitude he displayed previously, “Well, this is the place. Your things will be brought up here soon your men are staying in another wing of the castle.” He pointed down the hall with his thumb, “I live a couple of doors down; feel free to let me know if you need anything.”

“Right. Thanks for showing me to my room,” Khalid moved to open his door, “and for the info. I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Sure thing, man. Good luck,” Sylvain performed a mock salute with two of his fingers before heading back down the hall. 

Khalid entered the room, not having realized that he was guided to the same chambers he stayed in last time he was in Faerghus. The room appeared relatively the same, save for the layers of dust accumulated on the furniture. He moved towards the bed, carefully grabbing the comforter and bringing it to the window. With the dusty fabric bunched up in one arm, he unlatched and opened the window, tossing the comforter outside and whipping it against the open frame. When he felt a lull in the progress of his “dusting” he returned the comforter to the bed and repeated the process with the fluffy pillows. All the while Khalid mulled over how he intended to solve his problem with the paranoid king.

***

“And… Checkmate, Your Majesty.” Khalid leaned back in his metal chair, looking up at Dimitri who stared intently at their chess board. “While you think about your next move, I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to meet like this. It means a lot to me.” Khalid spoke each of his words cautiously, but still managed to inject a sense of lightheartedness in them. He had Sylvain to thank for his current situation. Asking the knight repeatedly to bother Dimitri into agreeing to join him had come at a, currently unknown, price.

I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.

Dimitri, who leaned into his knees, trained his eye on the prince and squinted. Khalid felt a bit of bile rising in his throat, determined to continue wearing his smile as a mask and meeting the king’s gaze. Luckily for him, Dimitri decided to wear an eyepatch today, which made the task easier for Khalid to stomach. After what felt like hours, Dimitri redirected his focus back to the board and made his move.

A quiet breath escaped Khalid’s lips; he hadn’t noticed that he held it in the first place. 

Good talk, Your Majesty. 

Nimbly picking up his piece and playing his next move, he preoccupied himself with the shrubbery in the small courtyard. Early spring flowers appeared to be in the midst of blooming; it seemed odd to have these delicate plants thriving in the as good as abandoned castle. Khalid pondered for a limited time about how the blooms managed to survive. 

Off in the back, as he had before, stood the stern-looking man in silver armor. He seemed uninterested in the game, but not bored. Dedue was is name, according to Sylvain. And Dimitri rarely showed himself outside of his quarters without Dedue at his side. Khalid took this as a sign that Dimitri hadn’t completely isolated himself, which meant there was a chance he could make progress.

Returning his attention to the board, Khalid took note of the move Dimitri made and responded accordingly. “So, these bandits,” his eyes followed Dimitri’s hand across the board, “they’ve been a thorn in your side for quite a while, yeah?”

Dimitri said nothing in response.

Why must you make this difficult?

“You’re right, we can hash this out later. It’s not like we’re setting out tomorrow,” Khalid forced himself to chuckle, “In that case, I have some stories I’d like to share, if you don’t mind. There’s so much that’s happened since my last visit.”

He expectantly stared at Dimitri, bracing himself for a snap. What he got was more silence. Dimitri didn’t waver from the game, still training his focus on the little black and white pieces. Khalid shared a look with Dedue, eyebrows raised, and internally declared victory before beginning his rambling.

Dimitri consistently held his tongue while Khalid did his best to fill the empty air.

“You should have seen his face, the poor—” 

“Khalid.” Hearing the deep baritone of Dimitri’s voice caught him off guard.

Khalid ceased to speak, tilting his head quizzically. Dimitri raised himself from his seat while grabbing Areadhbar and swiftly hurled the weapon into one of the bushes. Khalid hardly processed the chain of events, everything happened so fast. He blinked the fear and surprise off his face, catching sight of Dedue looking equally as shocked. 

A small bird fluttered out of the bush in a panic, practically ejecting itself from the plant. Dimitri grumbled while shuffling over to retrieve his weapon. “I thought there may have been an assassin,” he announced dejectedly.

“Either way, it worked out in the end,” Khalid tried, moving one of his pieces as Dimitri sat back down, “You either kill the assassin who was in the bush or you confirm that there is no assassin in the bush. Win-win.” Better the bush than me, I guess.

***

Khalid’s stay has spanned the duration of a moon and a half by this point. The overcast sky contributed to the still warm, but slightly cooler temperature. Dimitri and Khalid finished their third game of chess for the day yet remained in their seats within the courtyard. Dedue still stood in the distance, never allowing his attention to falter.

“So, Your Majesty, what is it that you do around here?” Khalid questioned, almost immediately working to backtrack his words, “When you’re not working, that is. What do you do for yourself nowadays, y’know?”

“As if I have time for such things anymore,” Dimitri scoffed and pushed his lips into a grim line, “The wretched nobility of this land has been working to tear me down since I became king.”

Yeah, that adds up.

Khalid feigned ignorance, placing his chin on his palm as he leaned on the iron table, “The nobility?”

Dimitri glowered at him, “Spare me the act, Khalid. I am well aware that you know of the circumstances Faerghus is facing. If you didn’t know already, you’ve had more than enough time to put the pieces together by now.”

So much for that.

“My apologizes, it won’t happen again, Your Highness,” Khalid sat back and threw his hands up with his palms exposed. He reflexively drew his shoulders up to make himself appear smaller, “So what exactly are you doing about it?”

The king hesitated, momentarily considering if he should be sharing this information. “There’s little to be done directly, currently. Your bandit problem is sourced from the misdeeds of these wretches,” he explained with misdirected anger, “They have been working alongside lowly criminals and wreaking havoc across the country. And it seems they slowly expanded their ‘territory,’ which your claim can attest to.” Dimitri crossed his arms, the clicks and scrapes of his armor marking his movements.

“I can’t believe how much the kingdom has changed since I was here,” Khalid mimicked his posture, leaning back in his seat, “I saw snow for the first time, I got to see the fascinating winter decorations of Faerghus, and learned to dance.” He sighed, “And now I’m here discussing corrupt Kingdom crime.” 

With the someone who looks like my friend.

Dimitri’s eye had softened a bit as his brow furrowed, “That night meant a lot to me. Although, I must admit I hadn’t recalled the memory until just now.” He straightened his back and moved to leave, “I suppose things really have fallen apart.”

Khalid stared as Dimitri stalked off. 

You were so kind and bashful and proud. Why did this have to happen to you?

***

By the third moon of Khalid’s stay, Dimitri appeared to have warmed up to his presence. However, even in the summer haze, Dimitri would not relent and continued to wear his black armor. Despite that, Khalid felt that his old friend enjoyed their weekly meetings, or he liked to think so. He no longer kept Areadhbar within arms-reach and he posture seemed less tense. If he played his cards right, Khalid could even manage to elicit a laugh or two from Dimitri. 

On this particular day, Khalid was feeling rather emboldened. He studied one of his pieces, rolling it in his hand. “Dimitri, I have a question.”

“Well?” he asked with a curious expression.

Khalid readjusted in his seat, uncrossing his legs and leaning into the table. “I’ve been here for a while now. But we haven’t really made much progress on this whole bandit situation.” He moved one of his pawns, “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed my stay more than I can express. However, for the sake of my people, I need to ask what is deterring the solution’s progress.”

“I see,” Dimitri tapped his gloved hand on the table, producing clanks, “The larger issue at hand revolves around those employing these bandits in the first place. However, even I recognize that I can’t… eliminate the remaining nobility of the kingdom.”

“Perhaps,” Khalid paused and looked to the side of Dimitri to avoid appearing confrontational.

Please, please, please don’t take this the wrong way.

“Perhaps you should consider reevaluating friend from foe. Establishing a strong circle of trust would be a good first step.”

Dimitri, without breaking eye contact, moved his head in the direction Khalid glanced, “Are you implying that my men are not to be trusted?” His face harbored genuine concern.

Fuck.

Khalid gulped, realizing that he inadvertently placed a target on Dedue’s back. “I, Dimitri, I don’t know who is or isn’t trustworthy. But I get the feeling that having more allies on your side would prove to be advantageous.” He studied the doubt in Dimitri’s expression and felt sick, “I’m sorry, I think I’ll be heading back to my chamber. I don’t think I drank enough water today.” Khalid promptly rose and bowed before hurrying past Dedue and out of the courtyard.

At some point during the week, Khalid managed to run into Dedue, alone. If he didn’t know any better Khalid may called it a miracle, but he suspected it was related to his previous conversation and Dimitri’s increased suspicions. 

“Dedue, hey wait up!” Khalid called and jogged up to him.

The larger man quietly turned around and faced the prince, “Hello, Prince Khalid. How may I be of service?”

Khalid shook his head, “Please, there’s no need to be so formal. I just wanted to talk with you. Where are you headed?”

“His Majesty dismissed me from my duties for the day,” Dedue explained with a hint of frustration, “So, I decided I would tend to the garden.”

Khalid brightened up, “You take care of the flowers? I had been wondering how the garden looked so… well kept. You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Thank you,” Dedue bowed his head, “I’m happy to hear that. But if you would excuse me.”

“Wait, Dedue, I need to talk to you about the other day.” Khalid took his lack of action as permission to continue, “Are you doing alright? I didn’t intend for that conversation to take the turn that it did. And I can tell you care a lot about Dimitri’s well-being, so I hope he hasn’t changed how he treats you.”

Dedue maintained his stoic composure, “My feelings on the matter are insignificant. As long as His Majesty is able to rule to the best of his ability, I will do whatever he asks and accept any consequences he deems appropriate.”

“You can’t be serious,” disbelief quivered in Khalid’s voice, “Dedue, you’re a person, you know. His Majesty or not, you shouldn’t just take a false accusation lying down. If you don’t want to think about this for you, fine; think about what would happen if you were gone. If something were to happen to you, who would protect Dimitri with the same dedication as you do?”

“I supposed you have a point,” Dedue admitted, still stone-faced. 

Khalid scoffed, “I would like to think so. You shouldn’t think so little of yourself, Dedue.”

Dedue didn’t acknowledge that statement, “Prince Khalid, I am going to go tend to the garden. But I would like to thank you for what you’ve been doing for His Majesty. Your insistence to keep meeting with him has changed the way he carries himself; I think for the better. And for that small improvement in his health, I am forever grateful.” He bowed deeply and took his leave.

Khalid fiddled with the beads at the tip of his braid while awaiting Dimitri’s arrival in the courtyard. He always arrived early, or maybe the king showed up late. It didn’t matter to him, as long as he decided to make an appearance. 

I wonder what he’ll do today. It’s like playing chess with a bear, sometimes.

The sound of approaching footsteps garnered Khalid’s attention, “Afternoon, Dimitri! Are you ready for another taste of defeat?”

“We’ll see about that,” Dimitri huffed in amusement. 

Once the king seated himself, Khalid noticed that Dedue, who stood without fail in the king’s shadow, was absent. His veins turned to ice as dread boiled within him. “Dimitri,” Khalid cleared his throat, “where’s Dedue today? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without him.” He took a shallow bite at the inside of his cheek while anticipating Dimitri’s answer. 

There’s no way he would have—

“I decided that his presence in the courtyard was unnecessary,” he causally waved his armored hand, “He’s standing guard at the entrance. Since we’re on the topic, I thought you’d be happy to hear I deemed Dedue as trustworthy.”

The knot in Khalid’s stomach suddenly disappeared, “How did you manage that?”

“The specifics are unimportant, but he had an opportunity to kill me, if he so pleased, and didn’t take it upon himself to do so.” Dimitri preoccupied himself with the chessboard Khalid set up earlier, “I also realized it was foolish of me to doubt his loyalty in the first place.”

Khalid forced a pinched grin, “You were right, I am happy to hear that.” 

He gave him the opportunity to kill him? What the hell are you thinking?? What kind of grand plan is that? Gods, well, at least Dedue is okay. And progress is progress, just take it and go. 

He didn’t press the matter any further and himself divulged in the game.

***

For the next three moons, Khalid patiently waited and listened to stories as Dimitri worked his childhood friends back into his inner circle of trust.

During the Blue Sea Moon, Dimitri joined one of his knights, Ingrid Galatea, on a pegasus ride, without notifying anyone. He nearly gave Dedue a heart attack by the time he sauntered back into the throne room. Having felt that Ingrid could have pushed him off the steed, left him abandoned someplace, or even brought him into the clutches of the enemy, Dimitri deemed her trustworthy.

Next was the bubbly magic scholar, Annette Dominic. As the weather cooled with the arrival of the Verdant Rain Moon, Dimitri invited her to tea, requesting that she bake some of her favorite pastries. Annette wasted no time in her task, agreeing before Dimitri could have the chance to change his mind. Once he observed that the treats were, in fact, not poisoned by her small hands, the king felt reassured in her loyalty.

Finally, the Horsebow Moon’s crisp winds brought Dimitri and the infamous Sylvain Gautier to spent most of their weekends sparring, to the latter’s disappointment. Initially, they exchanged blows, each wielding their respective family relics. Until Dimitri decided to face Sylvain with a plain, silver lance one day. The flirtatious knight completely refused to engage in combat with his king, insisting that his loss would be the talk of the town and assassinate his reputation. The degree to which Sylvain had refused to fight, even with the large advantage, served as proof enough for Dimitri.

***

The moon hid on this night, leaving only speckles of stars in the sky. Khalid busied himself with the contents of one his desk’s drawers, searching for a spare ink bottle. He froze at the sound of a knock at his door. Forcing himself up, he figured Sylvain was probably going to “ask for a favor” again and mentally recited his “sorry, no” speech as he approached the door. Opening his room to the hall, he greeted the outsider with a small smirk. His expression transformed into a wide-eyed stare. 

This is… new.

Unexpected and troubled, Dimitri towered over him. His usual intimidating armor was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by a loose white tunic and pants; although they did little to diminish his daunting presence. In a voice much fainter than anticipated, Dimitri spoke, “May I come in?”

Not knowing what else to do, Khalid stepped to the side, allowing Dimitri entrance. He ducked his head to avoid the doorframe as he entered. Once Khalid closed the door, he moved towards the small table in the corner of his room, “What can I do for you?”

“I would like to thank you,” he raised his head, “I know that you’ve been trying to— Well, I actually don’t know what you’ve been doing, but I think I have an idea. Regardless, I am deeply grateful for your persistence and willingness to remain here and guide me to see the error in my ways.” He hadn’t moved himself much further from the entrance of the room.

Before Khalid could muster a reply, Dimitri continued, “I realize I’ve made many mistakes since ascending the throne. And Almyra is now facing the consequences of my negligence.” He sighed, “For that, I would like to apologize. But I also came here to tell you that I will officially be working to absolve the manner of my corrupt nobles and their mercenary dogs.”

This is certainly new. And a relief. 

His eyes glowed and a satisfied smile grew across Khalid’s face, “Dimitri, I can’t tell you how comforting it is to hear that. I’ll be sure to include this in my next letter to home.” He then bit the top of his thumb, “But, do you really think the what, six of us— yeah, the six of us can really address the problem?”

“There is another old friend of mine whom I lost to my abhorrent behavior years ago. I hear that he has been steadily accumulating his own force over the years and does what he can to snuff out bands of criminals throughout the country.” Dimitri crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one side, continuing, “His exact location isn’t information I am privy to, but I suspect Annette will be capable of delivering a letter to him.”

We could use all the help we can get.

Khalid didn’t question the knowing smirk tugging at Dimitri’s lips, “Who is he, this friend of yours?”

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius,” Dimitri’s smirk fell into a frown, “When he decided to abscond, he left behind the duties of House Fraldarius to his father. It now has no future successor. But that’s neither here nor there. I won’t keep you any longer, I hope you rest well and have a good night,” he bowed and quickly accessed the door.

“Good night, Dimitri,” Khalid echoed, still standing in the corner, as the king exited the room.

Two weeks after Annette wrote to Felix, he stood in the castle’s war room with a nasty scowl carved into his sharp features. He had arrived with another man, one with friendly green eyes and a face dusted with freckles. The dichotomy was rather ironic. 

Currently, everyone in the room was waiting on Dimitri’s arrival. Annette was busying herself with the freckled fellow, the two seemed to be friends. While Felix trembled in restraint as Sylvain threw his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. Ingrid shook her head at the sight, moving to join Annette’s conversation. Khalid almost wanted to grab Sylvain’s attention, mostly for his own safety. However, before he could do so, Dimitri and Dedue made their entrance. Everyone retreated to their respective sections of the table. 

Dimitri began to address the group, “I’d like to thank you all for being here today, especially Felix and Ashe.” 

Felix hunched into himself more than he already had, and Ashe answered with an apologetic smile. 

Cute. This may be more difficult than anticipated.

“Felix, your troops are an integral part of this plan,” Dimitri continued, “I cannot express my gratitude enough for your cooperation.” 

“Don’t waste your breath,” Felix retorted, “I’m not here for you. The only reason I came was because I’m finally getting the resources to fix your problem. A problem you’ve been neglecting for years, now.” He scoffed and stormed past the table, “Go ahead and have the meeting without me. I’ll catch up.”

Yikes, yeah this is definitely going to be more difficult than anticipated.

After Felix slammed the door shut behind him, Ashe spoke, “I apologize for his behavior. It’s been a long trip, coming back to Fhirdiad. I can answer any questions pertaining to his forces in his absence.”

***

A couple of months went by, and the coordinated efforts of Khalid and Dimitri’s soldiers managed to mitigate most of the mercenary bands throughout the eastern expanse of Faerghus. This subdued the problem enough to allow for Khalid and his troop to prepare for their return to Almyra. 

Due to the weather, Khalid intended to utilize a Kingdom caravan to reach the Almyran border and rendezvous with a new Almyran troop of wyvern riders. It saddened him to think of leaving Shuk behind until the spring. 

Snow fell outside of his window while he worked to pack his bags. An unexpected knock at the door broke his focus, resulting in a prompt answer. Here they were again, Dimitri looming in the hallway and Khalid waiting to see what he’ll do. 

“Hey, Dimitri. You doing alright?” Khalid leaned against his doorframe and grinned.

Today the blonde brandished a cerulean and black uniform sporting golden embroidery. “I honestly can’t remember the last time my mind felt this clear. So yes, I’m doing quite well.” His light tone shifted, “I don’t wish to take up much of your time, and I know you intend to return to Almyra within the next few days. However,” his eye darted down to meet Khalid’s, “I wanted to invite you and your men to the Winter Ball. It hasn’t been hosted since my parents…”

He’s hosting the Winter Ball again? 

Launching a playful accusation, Khalid narrowed his eyes, “You sly dog. There’s no way I can refuse this invitation.”

“Pardon?” Dimitri perked up in confusion.

Khalid looked at the ground and shook his head, laughing, “Although you provided a caravan for travel, we both know leaving only to come back in the spring will end in so much wasted time. Besides, if my men find out they had they could have attended a fancy ball instead of sitting in a carriage trekking through the snow for three weeks, they’d have my head!” He let out an exasperated groan, throwing his arms up in surrender, “Gah, you win. There’s nothing more to be said on the matter.”

“Oh! Well,” Dimitri couldn’t hide his delight, “I’m pleased to hear that. The ball will be in five days.”

“That hardly gives me any time to prepare. Go on then, Dimitri, I’ll be seeing you,” Khalid playfully tutted and shooed the chuckling king away. 

The Winter Ball… Will it live up to last time?

Khalid found himself struggling in the company of his mirror and lantern as he had several years ago. This time, he wore his own comfortable clothing from Almyra. Although his garb did not serve as traditional “event” attire, it held itself well as formal attire. He fixed the yellow, brown, and dark green sash crossing his torso and checked the other sash tightly wrapped around his waist. This time around, Khalid didn’t bring the earrings he wore previously and settled for the classic golden pieces he had worn throughout the past nine months. 

Looking good, all things considered. 

He shot himself a quick wink before heading to the ballroom. 

Upon entering, Khalid was surprised to see that the venue looked incredibly similar to what it was all those years ago. Sure, the décor and people differed, but the energy felt as if everything preceding this moment was normal. The dark sky contrasted with the warm and bright interior of the castle, protecting its guests from the blanket of snow accumulating outside. Several chandeliers glistened over their heads and the polished wooden floor shone underneath them. Wreaths and garlands decorated the walls, complimenting the red candles lit all across the ballroom. Men and women filled the space chattering amongst themselves, this time with more diversity amongst both crowds.

While Khalid moved into the room, he spotted each of his new acquaintances. Ice-cold Felix melted under the gentle touch of Annette, who seemed to be guiding him to the dance floor. To the right of the room resided a long and luscious expanse of tables showcasing an assortment of treats both sweet and savory, currently being ransacked by the brave Ingrid. On the opposite side of the room, Ashe appeared to be in the midst of telling an exhilarating story while Dedue snickered beside him. And then there was Sylvain. Sylvain, who was attempting to infiltrate a flock of noblewomen. 

A firm hand placed itself on Khalid’s shoulder, he whipped his head around to identify its owner. 

“Fashionably late, again, Khalid?” 

Caught me off guard, again.

“Dimitri!” Khalid exclaimed before asking, “Wait, you knew I was late last time?”

Dimitri shrugged, moving the expanse of white fur around his shoulders connected to a thick and long, deep blue cape. His hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, strands of it falling out and framing his face. “I’m glad you decided to come.” 

“Me too,” Khalid smiled.

“I’ve said it before, but I’d like to say it again,” Dimitri gently placed his gloved hand on Khalid’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming all this way and remaining in the kingdom. It means a lot to me and, though they may not realize, the people of Faerghus.” 

I don’t think I want to be here anymore. 

Khalid let out a sigh, “Well, Your Majesty, you can truly thank my by having another dance. But,” he laced his fingers together and stretched his arms slightly forward, “it’s been years since I’ve last danced one of these foreign waltzes. Right? ‘Waltzes,’ that’s what they’re called? So, I couldn’t possibly dance out here; I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

The two of them shared a cheeky grin.

“Well then, Khalid,” Dimitri began, “I think I have an idea, to accommodate your ‘stage fright.’”

They duo didn’t initially go to the private courtyard, refreshing Khalid’s memory on the proper movements in some empty room. But Dimitri had insisted that the two enjoy themselves underneath the night sky, if only for a little while.

Khalid monitored his movements with intent, doing his best to avoid the distracting vibrations of Dimitri’s chest. Due to the secluded nature of the yard, he had taken to humming during their dance. 

“I think you might be a little outta tune, Your Majesty,” Khalid quipped slyly, glancing up at his much taller partner.

Dimitri laughed, sending more vibrations into Khalid’s hand, which rested near his back. In that moment, some feeling burst within him. He recognized the exclusivity of this growing ardor in his chest. To him, Dimitri looked ethereal, cast in the moonlight and cloaked in furs. Khalid recognized that there were still problems that needed to be addressed between themselves, but he found comfort in the development of Dimitri’s character throughout his visit. 

Earning a perplexed look from Dimitri, he stalled their movements. Who was he to deny himself what he wanted? Before the king could ask, Khalid brought himself to land a terse peck on his lips. Dimitri was quick to respond, enveloping him in an embrace and deepening the kiss. Once they broke apart, Khalid looked to the side, beaming.

“You surprise me, Khalid,” Dimitri wrapped his cloak around the both of them, holding him tight, “If you wanted to come closer, you could have just asked.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty,” he apologized sarcastically, “It’s just so cold out here, I couldn’t help myself.” He wrapped his arms around Dimitri’s torso, craning his head up.

“We could go back in, if you’d like,” Dimitri gently suggested.

Khalid clicked his tongue, “Maybe later. I think I’d like to stay like this for a little while longer.” He peered into Dimitri’s eye, “But only if you hum some more.”

“I would be happy to oblige.”


End file.
